The Good Stuff
by bagnome
Summary: Nick and Judy get into their first big fight and Nick hits the bar to blow off some steam and recollect himself. Story inspired by the Kenny Chesney song, "The Good Stuff." One-Shot.
Nick was slowly cruising through town, observing the dreary day through his windshield. The roads still wet from an early morning rainfall, and the dark, thick storm clouds made for a dimly lit sky. Dim enough to force the street lights to remain on. The smooth asphalt of the road surface reflected the glow of the street lights, illuminated signs, and traffic signals, along with the soft head light and red tail lights of the few vehicles that were motoring past each other in the less than perfect weather. A light shower still persisted as it audibly pelted the fox's small sedan.

The car came to a stop at a red light. The constant sound of the rain was almost mesmerizing to him as his mind shifted through his thoughts. He and Judy had their first big fight since the day they were wed. He never thought that they would ever get into any big argument with her. They never did when they were working together as partners on the force.

Now they were partners of a different kind. Living together, he observed disagreements that caused friction to form between the two and came to the conclusion to let any disagreement go before it escalated into an all-out verbal brawl. That was until this morning when he could not let the subject matter go.

What started as a harmless joke, turned into annoyed retorts, and eventually turned into yelling and screaming before a neighbor yelled at them to keep it down. Nick took the distraction as a chance to walk out of the apartment, he slammed the door behind him on his way out.

The traffic signal became green again and the car began to roll and make its way back up to speed. Driving for a few minutes, a large neon sign appeared in the distance. It was attached to an old worn down building sitting on the opposite corner of a major intersection that Nick was approaching. The building was a local bar that he and Judy regularly spent their evenings in. He then pulled into the parking lot, killing the engine and proceeded inside.

A small bell chimed as the door opened. He took a step inside and looked around. It was a cozy little bar. The walls were wood paneled, on it were framed photographs, and old signs that bear the logos of companies that time forgot. The floor consisted of creaky worn out wooden floor boards. The bar ran up the side of the room perpendicular to the front of the building. Opposite to that were the booths that lined the wall, a dartboard on the back wall next to a jukebox and a portal that lead into a hallway where a payphone and the restrooms where located, and in the center of the room was the billiards table that Nick used to hustle other patrons before he met Judy.

Nick's attention, however, was fixed only towards a particular booth. It is the booth that he and Judy always sit at. They usually spent their Friday evening after work sat there and unwound with a few drinks. Fifteen hours ago they did just that as they joked, laughed and teased each other.

The bartender, an old coyote, who looked half asleep picked up his head and looked towards Nick, who was still standing distractedly facing the booths.

"Mornin'," the bartender greeted.

The bartender's greeting snapped Nick out of his trans-like state. He looked over to the bartender and politely nodded, then looked up at the digital clock up on the wall above him. '11:03 A.M' it read. The bar had just opened and was seemingly deserted.

The fox found his way to a bar stool and perched himself up on top of it. He hunched over the bar and rested his head in the palms of his paws, looking down at his reflection in the hard acrylic resin that coated the bar top.

The bartender walked up to Nick and asked, "What'll it be?"

In his rush to get out of the house and cool off, the fox did not have a clue where he chose to go. He just found himself where he normally goes to relax. So he did not have much thought as to what booze he thought he needed to drown his memory. He needed something, anything, good and hard enough to distract his mind from this morning.

"The good stuff," he answered, still looking down at the bar.

A moment passed by and when Nick noticed that the bartender had not moved, he looked up and saw that the old coyote's eyes were misty.

"You can't find that here," he finally spoke.

After a long, drawn out awkward silence, Nick looks back down at the bar and sighs. "Didn't really expect to anyhow," he mumbled under his breath.

As the fox sat there he started playing with his ring, looking at the inscription on the inside of the golden band, and his mind began to wander. His thoughts first trained on when he and Judy first started dating. The second time they went out, they watched a movie. He was never one for romance flicks but knew how much Judy had wanted to see the particular film. Sitting there beside his favorite bunny, he did not mind watching it. Afterward, they took a walk through a nearby park where the memory really solidified itself in his mind. He brought her into a long kiss. Instantly the memory brought the taste of her lips into his mouth.

His mind then transitioned to when he first met Judy's parents as her boyfriend. She invited him to her parents' house to tell them the news. He was very nervous that first dinner he had with her parents. His whole body shaking, he dropped nearly every utensil he used. Looking back, he could only chuckle to himself the embarrassment.

Thinking about dinner, he remembered the first few months of his marriage. Judy liked to cook dinner for the two of them. She had a tendency to burn the food and he would always ask for seconds, just doing anything to keep her from tearing up about ruining dinner.

'Maybe that's the good stuff,' Nick thought. 'Too bad it doesn't come in a bottle of liquor.'

Nick heard a clink as the bartender sat a glass down on the surface of the bar. He turned his head to the source of the sound to see the coyote pouring himself a glass of milk.

Starring at the old animal as he began to sip at his milk, Nick gave a faint smile and said, "I'll have some of that."

The bartender proceeded to grab another glass out from beneath the bar and sat it in front of Nick, then poured the rest of the carton into it. As Nick sipped on his glass, he could not help but notice the picture tacked to the wall behind him. It was an old black and white photo of a young couple enjoying themselves. Noticing that Nick was staring at something, he turned his head to the same photograph.

"That's my Joyce," he seemingly answered Nick's curiosity. "Taken 'bout a year after we wed."

"Everybody liked to call her by her middle name, Clancy." He chuckled. "Her mother hated that name, but I think Joyce had everyone use it just to peeve her a little."

Nick looked over to the bartender. His arms were crossed as he looked at the picture, his eyes started to water. They sat there in silence once more for a minute before he spoke out again.

"I spent five years in the bar when the cancer took her from me."

Nick began to feel pity for the older animal.

"But I've been sober for three years now," He continued. "'Cause there are a few things stronger than the whiskey." He looked down at Nick whose face was showing more curiosity than before, so he went on. "Like the sight of her holdin' my baby girl." The bartender began to reminisce in his memories. "Or watching her adored the string of pearls I gave her the day our youngest married his high school sweet heart." As he said that he pulled the same string of pearls out of his pocket. Looking down he began to fidget with them. "Or getting a t-shirt sayin' 'I'm a grandpa', or holding her hand as the good Lord called her up." A tear began to roll down his cheek as he finished with a smile, "That's the good stuff."

Nick started to feel his own tears try desperately to pry themselves from his eyes. Not wanting to show it, he quickly looked down and rubbed his eyes, and then went into conversation with the old coyote. Hours passed by as they exchanged stories and cherished memories of loved ones. Talking as if they were old friends. The conversation finished with Nick talking about the fight he and Judy had that morning. Soon he looked back up at the clock. It read '1:57 P.M.'

"I think I outta head home now," Nick said as he pulled his wallet out.

The coyote shook his head. "Don't worry 'bout it, this one's on me."

Thanking him, Nick got off the bar stool. Taking one last sip of his glass, he made his way for the door. He was stopped by the old bartender's voice and turned around.

"When you get home, she'll start to cry," he began. "When she says, 'I'm sorry,' say, 'so am I.' 'Cause that's the good stuff."

"That's the good stuff," Nick echoed before he faced the door once more. The bell chimed as he exited. The coyote began to clean the bar up. He picked up the two glasses and spun around, glancing at the old photograph once more and smiled before he made his way back to the sink.

* * *

 **If you enjoyed this story, please take a moment to glance at my other Zootopia stories. They are all in the same respective timeline, but they can all be read as stand-alone, and they are all based on one country song or another.**


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